


The Other Side Of The Door

by ThePraxianWeasleyGeek



Series: In A Van, With My Friend [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everything is reasonably happy and only some things hurt, Fix-it fic, M/M, MTMTE, MTMTE #47 spoilers, fugitives au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-03 13:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5292599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePraxianWeasleyGeek/pseuds/ThePraxianWeasleyGeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They made it to a shuttle - but making it on the run is another matter entirely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shotgun Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> SO WHO ELSE IS A CRYING MESS?
> 
> I had a short-lived moment of optimism reading #47 - I thought these two were gonna run away together. So once I'd dug myself nice and deep into my trench of denial, I wrote it.

Cyclonus heard the footsteps just as he slammed a servo to the bay's door controls. After that the doors seemed to take an eternity to slide apart, the sound lost beneath alarms blaring and the whir of Tailgate's panicked vents - and the sound of their pursuers drawing ever closer.

The moment enough space appeared Tailgate was rather unceremoniously bundled through (Cyclonus tried not to think about another door and another minibot, and a story that had been recounted in hushed tones throughout the ship, but he waited perhaps a fraction too long before releasing the button), and the smaller mech stumbled on the other side with a yelp. He was barely out of the way before Cyclonus followed, willing the doors to close far faster than they'd admitted the pair.

A shot clipped his shoulder and he swayed, off-balance - but the next one, blessedly, impacted on the lifeless metal that had moved across to shield him.

A punch to the controls on this side was all he could afford to spare: it cracked the housing, but the warrior doubted he'd done the kind of damage he was aiming for. No time for improvement in any case; Tailgate had already taken the blunt hint that'd hit his companion and was sprinting for the nearest shuttle. Cyclonus followed.

And would always follow, he knew, just so long as Tailgate needed - _wanted_ \- his protection.

His life. His _spark_. It was all one and the same by this point.

... Time enough for that later. Right now, the objective was ensuring he remained able to carry through with his resolution. Tailgate had had to jump to reach and open the shuttle door, but he was already scrambling inside - he made it just as the blaster fire outside the bay hit a sudden crescendo.

They didn't even need to glance back to find out why, as one shot and then another impacted the shuttle's hull. Cyclonus threw himself into the doorway, making sure to keep his body between Tailgate and the gunfire while the hatch descended. A shot buried itself deep in his hip and he hissed in pain, but the next hit far further down. Evidently, the security grunts weren't willing to give up even when only his feet were visible.

The door sealed with a hiss and Cyclonus limped for the cockpit as fast as he was able, dropping heavily into the pilot's seat with a grunt as Tailgate scrambled up beside him.

"You're hurt!"

"Not badly. I'll live." He wasn't completely familiar with this make of shuttle, but if he could just find... _ah_. The engine booted up, but Cyclonus didn't allow himself to relax just yet. Not by a long shot.

"They shot you!" Tailgate was protesting. "How is that _not bad_?!" His optics were beginning to leak their peculiar ribbons of light.

"They'll do a lot worse, if I don't get us out of here before someone decides to use the external cannons," Cyclonus said grimly, aiming the craft towards the outer hangar door. "To both of us. You saw what was left of Rewind's escape pod."

He probably shouldn't have said that - the leaky light started flowing more freely as Tailgate made a noise of distress - but the incident was a little too present in his mind right now. He wouldn't have Tailgate go the way of the first Rewind; but if he could help it, the minibot wouldn't be made to suffer like Chromedome either.

 _Do you really presume he'd care enough, to suffer that much if you went? Would you_ want _him to?_

Cyclonus wasn't sure he was grateful to be distracted from that thought, when the distraction was a fresh round of shots that rattled the shuttle. Tailgate squeaked, and Cyclonus all but mashed the console as he keyed in for the hangar door to open. If the dolts attacking them had thought to send someone to seal the bay, he and Tailgate were about to become sitting targets.

He permitted himself a sigh of relief when the bottom of the airlock detached itself with a metallic groan. Shouts were audible behind the gunfire now - if this lot had any sense, they'd back off once the shuttle made it to the end of the room. It was inching its way over, but slowly; no point in gunning the engine when that would just send them headfirst into a slab of metal.

There was an ominous _boom_ and a rumble from somewhere in the back of the craft.

"Cyclonus? I think they're getting closer." Tailgate scrambled to his knees to peer over the headrest of his chair. Cyclonus released the controls with one hand to push him back down.

"They won't come much further, unless they want to be sucked out into space." Steam was billowing from the airlock, now - but the door suddenly clanked to a halt. Cyclonus swore. Evidently, one of the guards had drawn the same conclusion he had earlier.

"There's restraints on the seat. I suggest you use them."

" _You're_ not"-

"It doesn't matter about me!" Cyclonus snapped. "Strap in. Now!"

The second he heard the restraints click into place, Cyclonus floored it.

Tailgate yelped as the acceleration plastered him to his chair. The warrior could feel his EM field, loose and buzzing with terror; but he couldn't spare any thought for concern with the airlock juddering downwards once more.

His fingers dug grooves into the steering mechanism as he fought against the same force, battling to steer the shuttle straight and praying that it wasn't about to lose anything important off the top. Or be crushed altogether - the space they had was cutting it fine as things stood, and it was shrinking every second.

A last, almost half-hearted barrage of blasts impacted, and the galaxy loomed up before them in the viewscreen. Cyclonus kept the shuttle as low to the ground as he dared, gaze fixed on the rapidly descending door above him: thick, slightly battle-scarred, and fully capable of squashing them flat. Metal scraped and shrieked as it met the tips of the craft's fins.

The warrior pounded the button that would deploy those from upright. Their ship stuck fast for perhaps the longest instant of his life - but then, with a horrible _crunch_ , they were away.

Cyclonus watched the stars blur and swim, as the shuttle sped forwards and wobbled both at once; unbalanced by the damaged fins. He almost slid from his chair, only to be met with small white hands that did their level best to push him back.

" _You_ should strap in now," Tailgate insisted.

He complied without comment, then turned back to urge their getaway ( _ugh._ ) vehicle onwards.

"We're not safe yet, by a long way."

"They're gonna come after us, right? Why can't we just... talk it out?"

Cyclonus released a long, weary sigh.

"Tailgate, what if they don't believe us? Why would they? Getaway's covered his tracks far too well to be easily exposed."

"But the needles were fake! If I can prove that"-

"They can claim those are decoys, that you concealed the real ones somehow." The jet paused, staring sightlessly out at the stars for a moment.

"Whirl was in on this too."

" _What?!_ "

"I can't prove it, but it's the only way he could have known - he came to the hab suite to warn me. Or his avatar did. Like some kind of bizarre messenger angel, or...

"Getaway wiped his memory, Tailgate. He had just enough time to set up a warning for me, but by the time I reached him, he didn't remember I'd only just visited his room. It must have happened after I left."

"So if Whirl can't help we just find someone else who was in on it, get them to confess!" The minibot's visor was starting to leak again.

"If there _was_ anyone else, don't you think Getaway will have seen to them by now?"

Tailgate emitted a sound that was close to a sob.

"That's it, then? We can't go back."

"We'll need to lay low for a while, at the very least. But it's looking that way."

The minibot drew his knees up to his chest, rocking backwards and forwards slightly. Cyclonus thought he heard a tiny, tortured whisper: "... all my fault."

"It's not your fault."

"Huh?"

"You heard me. Not completely, at the very least."

Tailgate didn't seem very reassured at all, and Cyclonus pinched the bridge of his nose. "You should try and rest, if you can - I imagine there's a recharge cable somewhere in the back. I'm not sure how long they'll be chasing us once they catch up."

Tailgate nodded, unstrapping himself and making his way out of the cockpit. He walked as though he were in a dream - and perhaps it would be better for him to remain a little numbed to all of this for now. If they escaped their pursuers, then they could sit and discuss things in depth. What this meant for them both, where they would go from here -

\- _Why he had raced to Tailgate's rescue, acted without a moment's thought to get Megatron_ away _from the minibot_ -

"... Cyclonus?"

"Yes?"

"Why _were_ you in Whirl's hab suite?"

"... It's not important."

"Oh." The minibot fidgeted for a moment, then held out his hand. Five wicked, slender needles still stretched from his fingertips.

"D'you think this thing has an airlock disposal?"


	2. I Made A Lot Of Mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand part two! I have a few things planned for this series, so don't worry - this isn't the last you'll see of it by a long shot. I'm looking at doing a longer, single-chapter work next called Anew, to give them time to find their feet as semi-outlaws, and after that the plan is for a multichap titled A Curious Thing. Guess what that one's about. :p
> 
> Hope you enjoy this for now, though!

In the end, the two shuttles that came after them peeled off and left without much of a chase. Tailgate liked to think that some of their friends had been on board - maybe Swerve had talked (and talked, and _talked_ ) the guards down, eventually; or perhaps Rung had been there to reason things out, and persuade everyone to think it over.

Whatever the reason, those thoughts soon soured as the minibot watched the other shuttles shrink into the distance. The white bulk of the _Lost Light_ was still visible a long way off. He might never see or speak to anyone on board again.

In the case of _some_ people, Tailgate could very much live with that... but such a list was woefully short, compared to the one containing Swerve, and Rung, and Rewind and Chromedome and Skids and so many others. Even Whirl.

How many times had Whirl helped save his life, by now? Tailgate counted at least twice - yet the 'copter had still been perfectly okay sending him on a suicide mission. He'd be lying if he said that didn't hurt.

Tailgate knew, really, that Whirl was not the main problem; he just wasn't sure he could face the truth of who was, right now. He didn't especially want to face the idea of losing his friends, either, but it was less painful than the alternative.

Tailgate heard a click as the cockpit door slid open, but he didn't budge even when Cyclonus' footsteps approached the bench he was perched on. The side of his helm remained pressed against the window as he watched his home disappear.

_And who's to blame for that, huh? Not Whirl. Not really._

"Tailgate."

The minibot made a noncommittal noise. Cyclonus shifted a little, and Tailgate caught the briefest brush of apprehension as the warrior's EM field slipped. It was reined in once more, a moment later, and Cyclonus moved to sit on the bench on the opposite wall - making a small, barely-there noise of discomfort. Tailgate started guiltily, remembering the gunfire.

He jumped to his feet. "There's a medikit back near the recharge cable. I meant to tell you, but then the others - oh, _Primus!_ "

The minibot stared in faint horror at the lurid pink trail that wound from the cockpit door to Cyclonus' foot.

The wounded party offered him a thin smile. "It looks worse than it is."

"You still need patching up..." _Because of me,_ Tailgate nearly added. Without another word, he hurried into the back of the shuttle.

By the time he returned, Cyclonus had taken over his _Lost_ - _Light_ -watching vigil. Tailgate set the medical kit on the bench and watched his companion in turn; remembering a moment on another shuttle many months ago, when Swerve had sat beside him and muttered things about a place called Kimia that he really hadn't wanted to hear at the time.

Cyclonus was... at peace with all that by now, he supposed. Everyone had deeds to their name these days, what with the war; so he had been told time and again, and so he had _told_ , when people started whispering about his roommate. Friend?

_More?_

Though Tailgate didn't see why Cyclonus would want that - not after tonight, anyway. He'd been disapproving enough of the minibot's lesser offences: lying about his past, threatening Megatron... as it happened, he'd almost made good on that promise in the end, and it didn't feel in any way heroic or glorious. He had his own list of wrongdoings, like everyone else. This just happened to be the first with properly lasting consequences.

 _We like it here,_ he'd told Cyclonus. Tailgate knew that though the warrior had never completely fit in, the Lost Light had been as much a home to each of them as it had the other. And he'd gone and deprived them both of that, and gotten his saviour injured to boot.

Cyclonus still hadn't registered the minibot's return - or if he had, he hadn't acknowledged it. Tailgate rebooted his vocaliser.

"I, um, I found the medikit?" the statement came out as more of a question. "We can stop the bleeding at least, I guess."

He retrieved the kit and thrust it out before him like some kind of sacrificial offering.

"I'm sorry," the minibot whispered.

Cyclonus took the box from him, hesitating once it was in his claws as though he wanted to reach forward again. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Finally, he spoke.

"What are you apologising for?"

It wasn't a platitude, but a genuine inquiry. For some reason, the warrior looked as though he were afraid of the answer.

"Everything!" Tailgate replied desperately. "This whole thing is my fault - I know you told me that's not true, but it _is_ , I never should've trusted Getaway"- he drew in a shuddering gasp, almost surprised at how very wretched he suddenly felt -"if I hadn't been so _stupid_ , it wouldn't have mattered what he was planning."

"You were not stupid. You were naive, you were too trusting - but that isn't the same as stupid. You thought you were doing the right thing, I suppose."

"I didn't," the minibot said bitterly. "I went along with the entire thing, and looking back I don't even know _why_."

Something in his tone seemed to give Cyclonus pause: the warrior was frowning.

"You're starting to sound like the rest of us," he murmured.

"Well gee, I'm sorry the cynicism's rubbing off now that I've royally fragged up!"

Tailgate regretted that the moment he said it, clapping a hand to the front of his mask. "I'm sorry, Cyclonus, I..."

"Don't be," the jet sighed. "Help me patch this wound up; having something to do might take your mind off things."

He doubted that somehow, when he'd indirectly caused the injury - but at least this could be an attempt to make up for it. Cyclonus brought his leg up to rest his foot on his opposite knee, balancing the medikit precariously in the crook of the bent appendage. It was a small injury, all told: a little ragged hole near the mech's ankle, that didn't go in too far but was still leaking steadily. Tailgate scurried over to better reach the area in question, silently accepting the swab that Cyclonus handed him.

"They hit your shoulder too, right? When they first caught up."

"Clipped it," Cyclonus said. "Barely. It was a warning shot, and fired whilst running at that." He rolled his shoulder forwards, displaying the shattered fin kibble protruding above it. There was no energon - Tailgate breathed a sigh of relief.

"It could've been worse, I guess."

"Much worse," Cyclonus agreed, rummaging inside the medikit. He had one arm folded across his front, and conducted his search one-handed. The minibot felt a small frown settle on his own brow.

He put his concerns aside momentarily, in order to hold a patch in place while Cyclonus welded it over the wound. The warrior's optics flickered at one point - when he had to twist to adjust the angle of the tool, their scarlet light dimmed almost imperceptibly and Tailgate heard the tiniest sharp intake from his vents.

With the patch secure and the solder cooling, Tailgate stepped backwards and stared defiantly up at the jet.

"Let's see the state of your side, then."

"I'm sorry?"

"You just said I wasn't stupid. Your foot wasn't the only place they hit, was it?"

Cyclonus still looked a little taken aback (and vaguely guilty), but he slowly removed his servo from where it was pressed to his abdomen, never breaking eye contact with Tailgate.

His hand came away covered in energon.

" _Cyclonus!_ " Tailgate's vision fritzed, and he knew his visor was trailing light again. "Why didn't you say anything about that before?! It's way worse than this one!"

He rushed around to the warrior's other side, snatching a clean swab from the medikit as he went. "Oh Primus, that looks bad, it's gone in really deep! And it's bleeding everywhere, we need to get a patch on it _now_..." Tailgate swiped frantically at the hole near Cyclonus' waist, knowing he wasn't doing much good but feeling like he ought to do _something_ to help. "This is all 'cause of me, isn't it? You were behind me getting on the shuttle, and they hit you, and I'm _so sorry_ Cyclonus, you wouldn't even have been there if I'd just done the right thing in the first place"-

"Tailgate," the warrior said, quietly. Tailgate almost to launched right into another string of babbling - _no, Cyclonus, don't try to say this wasn't me, you're the one who tells it like it is and you're not backing out of that now_ \- but something soft in Cyclonus' tone gave him pause.

"Cyclonus?"

"I don't remember you deciding to fire a gun at me."

"That's not what I was saying, you _know_ that's not what I meant! I went running off and attacked Megatron, and everything that's happened since"-

-"Happened because I decided to go running after you," Cyclonus interjected. "You never asked for someone to charge in and stab Megatron."

"You wouldn't have needed to, if I'd said 'no' to Getaway!"

"Tailgate, listen to me," the jet grabbed the minibot's hands where they'd been fussing the swab around the edges of his wound. "You can call yourself stupid all you wish, but I acted just as rashly. When Whirl gave me his warning I didn't even stop to think. I didn't consider the consequences of what I was about to do, or how much damage I was likely to cause - and I knew it would be a fair amount, trust me. I let my fear get the best of me, and all because I..."

Tailgate stared, silent, knowing full well that Cyclonus could feel his hands trembling.

"... I didn't want to see you hurt."

That was possibly the longest he'd heard Cyclonus speak for at once, and yet Tailgate somehow still found himself disappointed. Gently, he disentangled his hands from Cyclonus' and resumed cleaning the wound.

"You do understand what I'm saying, don't you? That I was injured - that I'm here at all, in fact - isn't down to you. Whose idea was it to run for the shuttles in the first place?"

Tailgate said nothing for a moment, as he retrieved another patch from the medikit.

"We should get this fixed up before we"-

"Leave it for now," Cyclonus said. "It's not so much worse than the one on my foot; I just knew that you'd panic and blame yourself if you saw it."

"Why are you doing all this?" Tailgate burst out, finally. "Saving me, protecting me, even trying to spare my slagging feelings when I don't deserve it? That's not like you, Cyclonus. You're always _embarrassed_ when I pull stuff like this, or angry..."

The warrior's eyes suddenly dimmed. Tailgate might have said he almost looked sad, although he couldn't imagine why that would be true.

"I'd say something along the lines of 'isn't it obvious' - except I know it's been anything but," Cyclonus replied. "And I am sorry for that."

Tailgate's spark dared to whirl a little faster, no matter that he mentally chided it.

"I'm doing this because I..." Cyclonus swallowed. "I care about you, Tailgate. A lot. Today's events made me realise I owed it to you, to at least admit that."

"Why?" Tailgate's voice was small.

"If I'd told you sooner, you might not have been so desperate for approval. If you hadn't been so desperate, you might not have listened to Getaway." The warrior gave a wry smile. "You're not the only one able to trace blame further back than necessary."

A clawed hand reached out for a blunt-fingered one, once more. This time the minibot didn't pull away.

"I should have told you before it was too late. I'm sorry, Tailgate."

Even though he fought it, the minibot couldn't stop a sob escaping. He dropped the medical patch; it hit the floor with a _clink_ that was lost in the sound of him scrambling up beside Cyclonus, to settle with both hands pressed to his mask.

To his surprise the warrior immediately extended an arm and drew him in closer; until Tailgate's helm fell against his shoulder. Small white hands curled against a purple chassis and Tailgate's body continued to shake. He wasn't sure why he was crying, exactly. It could've been any number of reasons: guilt for the mess he still knew that he'd caused; grief at losing his home; fear and uncertainty, as they flew further into something unknown...

Relief, that even after what he'd done, someone could still like him enough to remain by his side. Wonder, that that person was Cyclonus.

At length Tailgate's body stilled, and the light his visor had been trailing dissipated. Cyclonus ran a hand up and down his arm in a somewhat uncertain manner.

"So, um, what... what do we do now?"

"There's a planet a few days' flight from here, as it happens. The Lost Light was headed to its neighbour, I think - but this one's inhabited as well so I've set a course. We can find fuel, perhaps better transport, and then..."

"And then?"

"And then we survive." Cyclonus hesitated, before something akin to determination flared in his optics. "Together, if you wish."

"Seriously? You'd stay with me?"

"For as long as you want me to, yes."

 _Forever,_ Tailgate almost blurted. He stopped himself just in time - nobody would agree to spending that long with him. The one mech who'd ever expressed an interest had only been concerned with Tailgate's momentary usefulness.

Still, the minibot decided, he'd take what he could get; whether that was days or years before Cyclonus decided he'd had enough.

The shuttle drifted onwards through the dark.


End file.
